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Three Sisters


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love Zeke and I’m very comfortable yelling at him.”

      “Sure, which is why I’m here instead of him. He doesn’t know how to reach you. He says it’s like you’re not even there some days.”

      An accurate assessment, she thought, knowing that every spare corner of her heart was filled with pain. There was so much of it, she couldn’t feel anything else. And because the pain consumed her, she deliberately chose to feel nothing at all.

      She missed her beautiful baby boy in perfect solitude, in an emotional vacuum, where he was always smiling and happy and only slightly out of reach.

      She poked at the turned earth. “This isn’t your fight, Wade.”

      “Tell me he can go home. I’m tired of him sleeping on my couch.”

      “He never had to leave.”

      Wade raised his left eyebrow.

      She sighed. “It’s not my fault he’d rather run than fight. I’m willing to take him on.”

      “Are you? He says the problem is you don’t fight.” Concern darkened his eyes. “You already lost Liam. Don’t lose each other.”

      Boston managed not to flinch at the sound of her son’s name. “I can’t be lost,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice steady so Wade wouldn’t guess the truth. “I will love Zeke until I die. As to the rest of it, did he tell you what he said?”

      Wade looked at her. “He’s not wrong, Boston. Having another baby...”

      She scrambled to her feet and shook her head. “Stop it. You don’t get to say that. You have a daughter. She’s beautiful and healthy and you don’t get to tell me when I should be ready.” She took a step back, then another.

      Wade held up both his hands. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t get to say. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

      She drew in a breath. Wade moved close and wrapped his arms around her. She settled into the comfort—a silent acceptance of his apology. Her brother-in-law kissed the top of her head.

      “Don’t be mad at him. He loves you. I love you, too. Just, you know, not like that.”

      It was an old joke—a familiar one. Comfortable. She closed her eyes and nodded. “I don’t love you like that, either. Send him home. It’s fine.”

      “You sure?”

      “If he’s here, I can torture him more thoroughly.”

      “That’s my girl.” He released her. “I’m taking over the Gordon job.”

      “The house next door? Not Zeke?”

      “He and I decided I was more suited to the project.”

      She looked up at Wade and raised her eyebrows. “Of course you did. I’m sure it was a long, thoughtful conversation and had nothing to do with the fact that Andi Gordon is pretty, single and has a great butt.”

      “My work is pain. I do what I can.”

      “You’re a complete and total dog.”

      “Not really, but I do want to check out the new neighbor.” He winked. “I have an appointment first thing in the morning. Wish me luck.”

      “No, and send my husband home.”

      Wade waved his agreement and started toward his truck. Boston returned to her planting.

      Zeke would return and they would talk and life would go on. At some point he would have to accept that she wasn’t ready for the next step—that her heart had been torn in so many pieces it might never be whole. People healed in different ways and at different speeds. She was fine with him having already moved on. She almost wished she could be like him. Almost. Because the truth was, not letting go allowed her to keep her baby close. In her pain, Liam was always with her. Exactly where he belonged.

      * * *

      Deanna wasn’t sure how long she sat in the park. When she finally forced herself to move, she was shivering. Perhaps from the cooling temperatures or perhaps from something deep inside herself.

      Colin’s words continued to batter her. As she stood, she felt blood seeping from wounds no one else could see.

      He was wrong, she told herself as she made her way back to her SUV. How could he think that about her? She loved her children. She devoted her life to her family. She had nothing for herself. She was defined by her relationships, by her love for them.

      She started the engine and slowly drove back to her house. As she made a turn, the folder slipped off the seat and papers scattered on the passenger-side carpet.

      She’d been so sure, she thought bitterly. So prepared. She’d known what she was going to say, going to demand. Now she was left scrambling, unable to figure out what exactly had gone wrong.

      Humiliation seared through her, making her skin burn. Had he talked to the girls about this? Did they all know what had happened? She would expect Madison to be gleeful, but the other girls, the younger ones, the twins, they were her babies. They loved her. She was their mother.

      But Deanna realized she was less sure than she had been an hour ago. It was as if someone had picked up her entire world and shaken it before putting it down again. While everything was where it was supposed to be, the seams weren’t straight and the edges didn’t line up.

      She turned at the corner and started up the last hill. The three houses, the Three Sisters, came into view. The sight of hers, so beautifully restored, usually calmed her, but not today. Not now.

      Apparently she hadn’t sat in the park as long as she’d thought because Colin was still in the driveway. All five girls crowded around him, hugging and talking, each struggling to be the one who carried his suitcase.

      She slowed, then came to a stop in the street and watched as her children smiled at their father. They were so happy to see him. She could hear their excited voices and their laughter. They practically danced for him.

      A few days ago, the scene would have filled her with contentment and pride. So many fathers weren’t interested in their children, but not Colin. He’d always been involved with the girls. Now she understood that he’d had a plan all along. A desire to take everything from her. To hurt her.

      Deanna waited until they’d all gone inside, then parked next to his car and went into the house. Loud conversation came from the kitchen as each of Colin’s daughters vied for his attention. She took the stairs up to their bedroom and closed the door.

      She leaned against the sturdy wood and struggled to keep breathing. She wouldn’t cry, she told herself. Wouldn’t let him know he’d gotten to her.

      She crossed to the bed and grabbed one of the corner posts. She held on, gasping for air.

      The unfairness made her want to scream. She’d sacrificed everything for Colin. Had created this perfect life he now complained about. She was a good mother. She was! How dare he judge her? He got to leave every week. She took care of all the details, she had to manage every crisis, while he got to come and go as he pleased. He was always the returning hero. She was the parent who reminded the children to brush their teeth.

      Bitterness rose like bile in her throat. She hung on to the carved wood with both hands, digging her nails into the varnished surface. Hatred filled her. Resentment and anger blended into a poison.

      Damn him, she thought viciously. Damn them all.

      Chapter Four

      ANDI STOOD IN front of the coffeepot. “Come on,” she murmured. “Hurry. I’m seriously desperate.”

      Water gurgled over grounds, then dripped out as dark, magic elixir. Andi held her mug where the carafe usually sat and waited until the cup nearly overflowed, then expertly put the